Guard Duty
by ardavenport
Summary: A very young Obi-Wan and his Master learn about failure.


**GUARD DUTY**

by ardavenport

* * *

"Please remain still."

TS-4C activated the scanner and the sensor ring passed smoothly over his arm. A line of bright blue light glided smoothly forwards and back over Obi-Wan Kenobi's thin pale arm lying on the support attached to the rest of the medical equipment. His forearm was sore, the swelling gone, the bruising faded; the broken bone had been mended. The shiny black medical droid took out a white sheath and quickly snapped it over the injured limb.

"Please be aware that your arm is not completely healed. You must not exercise or lift anything heavy with it for at least the next day. Your Master should bring you here tomorrow."

Obi-Wan's eyes shifted to the rest of the Temple's med center. There was another patient being treated for what appeared to be a minor injury by another TS-4, but no one else was present. Qui-Gon had been commed about his accident, but he had not appeared while he was being treated.

"I do not know where Master Qui-Gon is."

"Hmmm," TS-4C tilted its black and silver cylindrical head in what might have passed for concern. "I will inquire." The droid swiveled its body and tapped a panel. Looking up, Obi-Wan saw glowing text whiz by on the shiny black screen. It froze. "He is assigned to an official Council function. But he should be free soon."

Obi-Wan already knew this, but he had no idea what the assignment was. It was not important for him to know. He had been training with other younger Padawans for the morning. The droid's delicate digits tapped the controls next to the screen and the text changed to colored lines and shapes.

"Here." TS-4C tapped the screen. "You may wait for Master Qui-Gon here. It should not be long. He may com me if he has any questions about your condition."

Looking at the screen and fixing the place in his mind, Obi-Wan nodded and TS-4C lifted him down off of the examination table. He bowed and thanked the machine for its service and TS-4C inclined its head with a traditional 'I am here to serve.'

Tugging the wide sleeve of his pale tunic over the hardened sheath on his arm and walking out of the med-center on his own, Obi-Wan passed a few other Jedi coming in. Nobody looked injured. Nobody was being carried in on a float like he had been. He had told TS-4C that he could walk when the droid was summoned to look at him injury; only his arm was hurt badly, but that was not allowed. He was very glad that he was free to walk out.

The place that the droid had shown him was below one of the outer spires of the Temple. Much of it had been colored for only full Jedi Knights and Masters or those escorted by them, official places where he was not allowed. But the corridors were open passageways and that was where the droid had pointed.

Glad to leave the antiseptic air of the med-center, he walked down the enormous columned walkways of the Jedi Temple, occasionally passing Masters and Knights and other adults strolling peacefully by, taking no notice of him. Golden day lights streamed down from the tall artificial windows. He entered an empty lift at the far end of the hall and went down.

Two Knights entered as he left, one of them lifting a tufted brow as he brushed between their brown robes. But neither of them said anything and the doors of the lift closed as it took them away. Looking to either side, Obi-Wan went left.

This part of the Temple was gray, plain stone and metal with modest, muted-color patterns on the floors and doorways, and no artificial windows tuned to the outside light, an illusion of a vast open space in the great halls above. The curved hallway he walked through was deep inside, his boots on the hard floor the only sound other than the barely perceptible hum of the lights in the ceiling and high on the walls. Coming to a wide opening on his left, Obi-Wan saw another corridor and a heavy, dull metal door with two Temple guards posted on either side of it. He hastily ducked behind a pillar and peered around it at them. Only at very official functions were guards ever needed and they were obviously there now to keep people who were not supposed to be there out.

They did not seem to notice him, or if they did, he was not worth acknowledging. It was difficult to tell; their faces were completely covered by masks that faced forward. They were a matched pair, humanoid in shape, probably male, two arms, two legs, bodies and head proportioned similarly to Obi-Wan. Pale hoods covered their heads and their tunics and masks were decorated with faint Jedi crests and curves. At their sides were enormous double-bladed lightsabers attached to their heavy belts.

Obi-Wan wondered if Qui-Gon was in there, beyond the guards. And if so, why? This was a place of judgement, where the Jedi Council weighed the future of any who breached the Jedi Code. It was rare, but it did happen.

The gray doors opened with a mechanical exhale of air and the guards stepped aside. People emerged, Jedi and two more guards. Obi-Wan spotted members of the Jedi Council, Yarcel Poof, his small head taller than any of them, Depa Billaba and others. And among them was Master Cul'trach Lom, his bright yellow skin standing out under the hood of his dark brown robe. Obi-Wan did not know him; had never met or trained with him, but he had been in a recent Temple info com. His Padawan had been killed in a training accident on Uratiso's Moon. There were other Jedi as well in the group, Masters and senior Padawans. A few spoke softly among them, the sound an indistinct murmur.

Was that what this was about? Had Qui-Gon been asked to sit in judgement of Master Cul'trach with the Council? Obi-Wan watched the Jedi leaving, his eyes following them down another curving gray hallway. He glimpsed a few obviously non-Jedi in the group, one person in a red pantsuit, another in yellow and blue stripes, another in a gray and green uniform. Qui-Gon was quite tall, taller than these people (except Yarcel Poof) but Obi-Wan did not see his long brown hair, tied back from his face, above the other heads. The group started to disappear around the corner and hoping that he had just missed seeing him, Obi-Wan stepped away from the pillar and standing as tall as he could. But none of them had the right broad shoulders. None of the robes were quite the right shade of dark brown to belong to his Master no matter hard he looked. Where was Qui-Gon? If TS-4C has sent him to this place then Qui-Gon should have been among them.

A shadow crossed the floor in front of him.

Gasping Obi-Wan, whirled about.

One of the guards loomed over him, facemask tilted downward, dark eye slits looking right at him. The guard pointed toward the still open door and the darkened chamber beyond.

Not quite understanding, Obi-Wan just stared up at him.

More than twice his height, the guard gestured and pointed again, moving to herd him into the room. Reluctantly, he went.

Not only had he failed to find his Master, he was now being told to go into a place that he knew wasn't allowed into, which meant that he probably hadn't been allowed outside in the corridor in the first place. He had only compounded his first error, getting injured in training, with being caught where he wasn't supposed to be. Belatedly, Obi-Wan wondered why had not just used the com. If Qui-Gon was unavailable, he could have left a message and gone to his room to wait there. He had wanted to tell Qui-Gon in person what happened, but now leaving a message seemed to have been the preferable option.

The guard directed him through the tall circular room with high gray galleries all around, looking down on a circular dais where Master Cul'trach Lom must have been judged. Obi-Wan swallowed hard, sure that he had not done anything so bad that he would have to stand there with the Jedi Council looking down at him, but walking across that room still felt ominous. There was an alcove on one side behind a thick gray wall that concealed a couple of plain doors. One slid aside.

Obi-Wan preceded the guard inside, entering a new, much smaller circular room. This one was brighter, lit by artificial lights behind window slats. It looked like a big meditation chamber, with a circle of padded platforms under the windows.

Five more guards, just as big and broad-shouldered as the one that had brought him looked back at them. And then the eye slits of the helmets looked at Obi-Wan.

Determined to at least not look as afraid as he felt, he marched forward and bowed to them. Bowing was almost always the best way to start anything.

One stepped forward and spoke, the voice very familiar even thru the helmet com.

"Obi-Wan."

Mouth gaping open, he watched his Master push back the hood and take off the helmet. His long hair was parted in the middle, tied and looped on either side of his head; it looked very strange, but it was Qui-Gon.

"I thought thissss ssssmalllll one waaaasssss yoursssssss." Behind him, Master Eessy had also removed his helmet. He stepped forward, a grin on his green scaled face, his forked tongue flicking over his grim.

Qui-Gon at least did not look angry. "What are you doing here? How did you find me here?"

"TS-4C told me you would be here."

His Master's face went blank, his blue eyes wide and almost fearful. "You were in the med-center?"

"Yes, Master. I was careless in training." He explained about trying to triple flip over two other Padawans, getting confused in the spin and landing wrong. Qui-Gon knelt and put aside the helmet. Obi-Wan presented his injured arm and the older man removed his heavy gauntlets before taking it. The other Jedi also took their helmets off and gathered around. As guards, they all looked the same, big, broad and intimidating. Obi-Wan recognized a couple of the other faces, a couple he didn't, but they were all Jedi, Knights and Masters.

Cradling the arm, Qui-Gon laid his other large hand over the white covering "I shall com the med-center and confirm TS-4C's instructions." Obi-Wan's arm felt slightly warm under it's plastoid protection where Qui-Gon touched it.

Glancing upward, Qui-Gon nodded to the others and their huddle broke up. After placing their double-bladed lightsabers in racks on either side of the room, they went to what looked like a service window on the opposite wall where a Temple droid took their helmets, gauntlets and belts, the hanging attachments on them clicking together as they were handed over. Then they began to strip off their robes and tunics.

Qui-Gon led Obi-Wan to one of the platforms and lifted him up onto the pale padding and then went to a wall com. Looking all around the room, Obi-Wan wondered if Qui-Gon did this duty often. Qui-Gon was a senior Master, a negotiator, a peace-maker for the Galactic Republic who traveled to far off worlds. He sniffed. This room looked like a meditation chamber, but it smelled like a training room, with the scents of the different species and their clothing in it.

The pale helmet next to him was now an empty shell. He could see some of the black com unit and gray padding inside. He reached out a curious hand and turned it so he could see the eye slits from the inside. The holes were just two small rectangles, but a Jedi Knight would not need to 'see' with eyes to use the Force and a lightsaber.

Qui-Gon returned and Obi-Wan hastily jerked his hand back, but his Master did not seem concerned about his investigation. He just scooped up the helmet and gauntlets and joined the others who had given the droid the most of their guard garb and were now putting on their usual boots, tunics and robes. They were done before Qui-Gon and each murmured formalities, bowed and left, always with glance toward Obi-Wan on their way out.

Finally, only he and his Master remained. Qui-Gon tugged the tabards into place under his belt. He had unbound the locks on the sides of his head and tied his long hair back where it belonged. His own lightsaber and robe lay on a nearby platform. Picking up the long double-bladed lightsaber, he went to one of the wall racks. Obi-Wan watched it carefully.

Qui-Gon noticed him staring.

"Would you like a demonstration?"

Sitting up straight, he nodded.

Smiling, Qui-Gon took up a position in the center of the room. Head high, he closed his eyes, the saber held vertically with both hands. Obi-Wan dutifully noted all of the important points of his stance, feet spaced one foot-length apart, shoulders level and relaxed.

Eyes opening, Qui-Gon lunged forward, simultaneously whipping the saber parallel with the floor in one hand, activating it. The blades hissed alive for both ends of the double hilt; they were yellow, a very uncommon color. Drawing back, his Master twirled the blades in front, to the sides, back, turning around. The double blades only stopped whirling when Qui-Gon stabbed and reversed on imaginary opponents, the deadly hum rising and falling with each move.

Finally, he ended with the hilt parallel to the floor again, the yellow blades vanishing. Again, he closed his eyes and Obi-Wan waited for him to release the Force.

Opening his eyes, he nodded to his small apprentice. "Has that satisfied your curiosity?"

"Yes, Master." He nodded eagerly and held his hand out, his uninjured arm, toward the weapon, silently asking permission. They sometimes held Qui-Gon lightsaber together during training, the older Jedi guiding his motions to show him the weight and feel of it for when he was old enough to build his own.

His Master's brows rose.

"By your own admission, you currently only have one unimpeded hand due to carelessly over-estimating your abilities." Qui-Gon did not actually say 'no', but the answer was clear. Now shamed that he had asked, he dropped his arm.

"I have never seen you train with a lightsaber like that."

"I do not very often, though they are required for this duty." He held up the weapon. It was actually two matching lightsabers held together with a connector, the emitters pointing in opposing directions. "They offer an excellent defense but are unwieldy in confined areas. But a few Masters that I train with prefer them and it is always best to know how to wield any weapon if one is to defend against it, though in this case …" he ran an appreciative hand over the long silvery cylinder, " … that is very unlikely."

"Why did the Council pick you for this duty?"

Qui-Gon shrugged. "It was my turn. Many of the younger knights, and Masters who have Padawans who are still taking most of their training at the Temple …" he smiled, " … are called upon to perform tasks such as this."

"But are there not guard droids for such tasks?"

"Would droids work on a Jedi?"

Obi-Wan shook his head and Qui-Gon's smile broadened.

"Why do you wear masks?"

"It is a duty best performed impersonally; the masks do that very effectively. The post is mostly ceremonial, more traditional than anything else. Master Lom gave us no cause to act."

"What will happen to Master Lom?"

The smile fell away from his Master's face. "He had been found capable of training a new Padawan, when he feels he is able."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth but Qui-Gon held up a hand to stop him.

"No more questions. We should go." Nodding, Obi-Wan climbed down off of the meditation platform.

After placing the double-bladed saber in a rack with the others, he took up his own lightsaber and robe and led Obi-Wan out. He started to go back to the judgement hall, but Qui-Gon corrected him.

"This way, Obi-Wan."

They went through a second door behind the alcove wall. The ceiling beyond was low and they passed a wide metaloid double-door with multiple control panels on both sides. Qui-Gon called to him when he paused to look.

"I'm sorry, Master. I have never been in this part of the Temple."

"I very much hope that you will never need to be brought here my young Padawan." Qui-Gon told him in a near whisper. Obi-Wan silently followed his Master through the gray stone corridors to the lift. They went up and when they emerged, they were back in the brightly lit columned corridors of the Temple.

"We shall have a meal, Obi-Wan and you will tell me more about your training mishap."

Sighing, Obi-Wan followed him to the eating hall. Qui-Gon got their food, bowls of stew, spoons, grain rounds and water, 'something that he could easily eat with one hand'. Embarrassed, Obi-Wan sat down and ate his meal. More shame came when he answered Qui-Gon's patient questions about how he hurt himself during training. Normally, he eagerly ate his meals and he liked this stew, but the re-telling of his failure blunted the savory tastes and aromas, making the food much less appetizing. At the end of the questioning, his Master sighed.

"I have failed you, my Padawan. I am sorry."

Obi-Wan denied that. Qui-Gon had not even been in the room. Master Yenos had been instructing him and the other younger Padawans and it had certainly not been her fault when Obi-Wan had tried something she had told them not to do. But Qui-Gon shook his head.

"It is always the Master who is at fault when a Padawan falls, Obi-Wan. You already know this."

Obi-Wan did know this, but it hardly seemed like this part of the Jedi Code should count for this case; Qui-Gon had not even been there when it happened. But he did not argue. He nodded.

Qui-Gon smiled and laid a hand on his shoulder. "You will understand this better when are older."

He finished his food before asking his next question.

"Was it Master Lom's fault that his Padawan was killed?"

Pausing before answering, Qui-Gon nodded his head once, his blue eyes sad. "Yes. It is always the Master's fault when a Padawan falls. Master Lom's training did not stop Ahezi Fres from acting recklessly and then panicking, losing his focus and not reaching out to the others who tried to help."

Staring down at his empty bowl, a few scraps grain flat in the bottom, Obi-Wan pressed his lips together, his gray-blue eyes looking up to his mentor.

"I acted recklessly today, Master."

Qui-Gon's hand touched his shoulder, his head. "You did. But … " he pushed his chair back " … you will do better tomorrow. For now, you will rest. Come."

They got up and disposed of their dishes and utensils and left the eating hall. They went together to the living area and Qui-Gon escorted Obi-Wan down the long corridors of the many doors to his Padawan's plain room.

"You will rest now; sleep. I will stay with you." Qui-Gon took his robe off. "When you wake, we will meditate on what happened today. And how we will do better in the future."

Nodding, Obi-Wan went to the fresher to wash up. When he came out he put on a long tunic and loose pants, carefully putting away his boots, belt and clothes on the shelf where they belonged. Qui-Gon dimmed the lights after he lay down on his sleeping mat; the room's artificial window had been set to a starry night on a dark forested planet.

Sleep did not come to Obi-Wan in the darkened room. He was not used to taking naps. He was much too old for that anymore. And his thoughts swirled around what might have happened … if he had jumped higher, fallen differently … on his head instead of his arm … then Qui-Gon might have been standing before the Jedi Council's judgement in that gray circular room. And he would not be there to tell the Council that it had not been his Master's fault. Tears stung the corners of his eyes.

"You are wakeful, my Padawan."

He gasped, startled. And then swallowed hard and sniffed.

"Yes, Master." The words did not come out right; his voice was too high, too weak. He sniffed again and wiped his nose on his arm, but otherwise lay on his back on his sleeping mat.

Qui-Gon did not move, his profile a black shape against a starry sky. Obi-Wan turned his eyes back up to the ceiling.

"You are fearful, Obi-Wan."

He nodded, though his Master could not see it. "Yes, Master." It came out a little better this time.

Lying uncovered on his mat, he stared up at the ceiling in the long silence that followed. Qui-Gon would wait and wait and wait for him to say more. If he somehow managed to sleep, when he woke, Qui-Gon would still be there waiting.

"The Master should not be blamed for the Padawan's failures."

"The Padawan acts through the Master's teachings. If the Padawan fails, then it is a failure of those teachings. But there is no blame, Obi-Wan. It is will of the Force."

"Why would the Force wish any Padawan to fail?"

"There is no 'wish', Obi-Wan. The Force is what it is."

Obi-Wan was not sure how there could be no blame when there was a failure. Failure was always someone's fault, right?

"If there is no blame, then why was Master Lom being judged by the Council?"

"It had already been determined that everyone acted appropriately during the incident when Ahezi Fres was mortally injured," Qui-Gon's voice said in the darkness. "The judgement was to determine if Master Lom was fit to train a new Padawan."

"But he failed."

"Failure is not something that can always be foreseen." His Master's voice became quiet, thoughtful. "The Council could foresee no reason why Master Lom would fail again if he were to train a new Padawan."

"What if he fails that one?"

"What if he succeeds?" Obi-Wan heard his Master sigh. "Do not focus on what _might_ happen. Be mindful of what is happening now."

He wanted to, but the image of Qui-Gon looking up at the Jedi Council and passing judgement on his ability to train a new Padawan was not so easily banished.

"But if I fail you - - - "

"There is no _if_ , Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon's tone now sounded cross. "And it is the Master who is responsible for the Padawan's failure. Always."

That annoyed Obi-Wan, that his Master was not listening when he needed to say something important.

" _When_ you fail me, Master. . ." He thought about Qui-Gon being left all alone because of his failure. " . . . I think it would be best for us to correct the failure together, would it not?"

The long pause seemed to fill the dark room, the older man's black outline very still, framed by the backdrop of night and stars.

"Yes, Obi-Wan. Together would be best. Always."

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 **%%% END %%%**

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 **Note:** This story first posted on tf.n on 1-June-2015.

 **Disclaimer:** All characters and the Star Wars universe belong to Disney and Lucasfilm; I am just playing in their sandbox.


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